In plain words
Āṇṭāḷ, to the flowers: Bright karuviḷai flowers, kāyā flowers, you remind me of the colour of the form of Tirumāl [consort of Śrī]: tell me some way by which I may live. The perfect one of Tirumāliruñcōlai, whose strong shoulders are where Śrī [Mahālakṣmī] plays, comes into my house and seizes my lovely bangles by force: is that right?